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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787198">Why</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14'>RumbleFish14</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguing, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Loss of Trust, M/M, Season/Series 04, Trust Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:22:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey and Ian get into another fight and the "why" this time is pretty clear</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Why</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Why</p><p>"Why does this always happen?"</p><p>Mickey cringed at the defeated sound in Ian's voice. He hated the way it sounded, yet it was his fault it sounded like that in the first place. </p><p>"Why do we always fight?" </p><p>Why...it was always why. Why this, why that, why not. Just why. </p><p>"Aren't you tired of this?" Ian asked again when Mickey remained quiet. "Aren't you tired of feeling this way?"</p><p>"What, bruised?" Mickey asked and it came out exactly as the rest of his vocabulary, harsh and mean sounding.</p><p>They had another fight. About what, Mickey couldn't say. Lately it seemed to happen all the time, fighting. Either an argument or an actual bloodied fist fight. He was never sure why it always escalated, or whose fault it was...even when he had a pretty good idea about it. </p><p>Why did they always fight? That was the 64 million dollar question. </p><p>They sat on the porch at his house. Surrounded by nothing but the muggy summer air and darkness of night. They were bruised, broken, battered, beaten down...it was all the same. Although this time, they were literally bruised.</p><p>Ian sported a good sized black eye on the right side, a split lip and bloodied knuckles. Mickey had the same split lip and bloodied knuckles but his ribs were bruised as well, possibly from Ian kneeing him or a well aimed punch, but again, the details were unimportant. </p><p>"What kind of question is that?" Mickey asked before Ian could reply to his other one. He glanced over through the cloud of smoke from their cigarettes. "You know why we fight."</p><p>"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking." Ian snapped.</p><p>Mickey arched an eyebrow at him. "What, you want a play by play of our entire life or just from tonight?"</p><p>Ian rolled his eyes and stood to put his cigarette out. "Just forget it."</p><p>Mickey stood as well, his guard firmly in place as he walked after him. He didn't run, but he had to power walk to keep up with him. "You're the one who asked me, remember?"</p><p>"Yeah, well that was a mistake." </p><p>"Damn it." Mickey cursed under his breath. His short legs were nothing compared to Ian's long stride. He had to run to catch up because Ian wasn't going to wait. "Hold the fuck on."</p><p>Ian jerked out of his grasp. "Don't touch me."</p><p>Mickey pulled his hand away like Ian bit him and maybe, just maybe, his stomach tightened in all the wrong ways. "Fine, let's talk about this fight then, hmm? You're pissed because I came to your work again, right? The same way you're always pissed that I show up."</p><p>"No, I'm pissed because you're an asshole." Ian said as a matter of fact. He didn't back down from that Milkovich sneer. Terry and Mandy had the same one and Ian was used to it. "You wanna show up, then fine, show up, but you know damn well what I do and you come anyway and get pissed at me."</p><p>Mickey looked away, Ian was right but he didn't like that he was. </p><p>This had been happening for a while. After Ian came back, after Mickey realized Ian had bee fucking other guys behind his back, I had become increasingly hard to trust him. Ian knew this. They talked about all of it when they decided not to give up, when they decided they wanted each other too much to quit. They talked about every single thing, all their issues and how to fix them, or how to try and fix them. They talked about Ian's job at the club, about the porn movie he made, they talked about ALL of it. </p><p>That had only been two months ago and Mickey realized he was still having trouble trusting him. When they were apart, he wondered what Ian was doing, and who he was doing it with, or where. When they were together and Ian's phone went off, Mickey always suspected someone else, like Ian was playing the field again. It was constant. </p><p>This led to him going to the club when Ian worked. To watch him, to spy, to reassure himself that Ian was where he said he would be and with who he said he'd be with. Every single night it happened and of course nothing actually happened, Ian wouldn't dare step out again when he was around, but it created some other problems for them.</p><p>His presence at the club was being noticed. By the other patrons and the boss, both of which didn't bother him in the slightest. They couldn't kick him out if he was a paying customer, and he was. He drank his heart out because he had to watch Ian grind it out on other men. But he noticed quickly that Ian was being passed over for dances and such, because he was always there watching, mean mugging anyone who looked at Ian for too long. </p><p>It was a problem.</p><p>Mickey would drink and watch until he got pissed, then end up making a scene which either led to him being tossed out, or Ian was asked to leave early, cutting his hours and his pay. They'd fight it out, words or knuckles, depending on the severity of it all, then they wouldn't speak to each other for a few days before it happened all over again. </p><p>Like tonight. </p><p>It wasn't all Ian's fault, but again, it wasn't all his fault either. Unlike Ian, he never cheated on him. Angie didn't count, Svetlana sure didn't, and aside from being with Ian, there was no one else for him. Ian had no reason to worry when he had every reason. </p><p>"You already know why I go." Mickey said through clenched teeth. And when Ian looked away, he knew they were on the same page. "Excuse the fuck outta me for not being okay with your...job."</p><p>"I didn't ask you to be okay with it, Mickey. I don't need your permission."</p><p>"No, you don't." Mickey shook his head and tried to keep the rising emotions out of his voice. "But whenever you have an issue with my job, we figure out a way to fix it."</p><p>Ian looked away again. </p><p>"Shouldn't that go both ways?"</p><p>"It's not the same." Ian sighed. "You sell drugs and guns, that's illegal. If I see a problem, so could someone else."</p><p>"Yeah I sell drugs and guns, but you sell sex," he held his hand up with Ian went to argue. "Yeah yours is legal, but if I have a problem with something, I thought maybe you'd wanna try and fix it so I didn't have a problem."</p><p>"So, what, just quit then?"</p><p>Now Mickey rolled his eyes. "The only thing I have a problem with, is them touching you when they're not supposed to. You see them do it and you just let it happen. And don't give me that shit about you making more tips that way."</p><p>Ian turned a little to walk around, trying to breathe. It didn't work, but he had to try. "You don't trust me." </p><p>It wasn't a question and Mickey didn't lie. "No, I don't, and you know why I don't. But how the hell am I supposed to try if you let them touch you like that, hmm? You think I enjoy seeing it, or knowing about it and that you don't do a damn thing to stop it?"</p><p>Mickey turned, lighting yet another cigarette, his third in the last twenty minutes. This wasn't helping. They weren't fixing their problems like they said they would. He was getting mad, Ian was getting mad and everything was getting worse. </p><p>"So fine, if you don't want me to go, then I won't. But don't expect me to stay very long if that shit keeps happening."</p><p>Ian's eyes widened and Mickey had never seen him so surprised before. Basically he just told him that if it kept happening, then he would leave. Something he never considered until that moment, but knew that if it kept going how it was, that sooner or later he wouldn't be able to.  do it anymore. </p><p>"Yes, I am sick of feeling like this." Mickey said after a moment, bringing them back to one of Ian's first questions. "I'm fucking tired of feeling like I need to follow your ass around and make sure you don't do it again. I shouldn't have to do that, Ian. I don't want to feel that way."</p><p>Ian rubbed a hand over his eyes.</p><p>"I don't want to spend every fucking day worried that I'm not good enough for you."</p><p>"You are." Ian promised, moving towards him even when he pulled back. "Mickey, you are enough."</p><p>"Then fucking act like it." Mickey snapped. "They touch you like that, tell them to stop, they want your number, tell them to fuck off. It's that simple."</p><p> "What else?" Ian asked, silently agreeing to his terms. </p><p>"Nothing." Mickey turned away from him and walked the fifty feet back to his porch and sat down. He didn't expect Ian to follow, but he did and took his seat next to him. "Look, I'm fucking trying here…"</p><p>"Yeah, and I'm not." Ian put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "I figured since it was just work that… I don't know, that maybe you'd already get that it didn't mean anything."</p><p>Mickey snorted. "Yeah maybe if all that other shit didn't happen I could work with that. I know damn well you'd have a problem with all of this if our shit was switched and it was you who had to deal with it."</p><p>"Yeah, you're right." </p><p>Without offering, Mickey flipped his cigarette. Ian took it without meeting his eyes and took a drag or two before he passed it back. "This was supposed to be a two way street this time, remember? Me doing all the fucking working isn't two ways."</p><p>"I'm sorry." Ian said after a moment, only realizing then that he hadn't said it yet. "I guess I don't think about them touching me because it's just work, it always happens."</p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes, unsure if he believed that or not. </p><p>"And I don't give them my number, okay? And I turn down any offers that pull me off the floor."</p><p>That much was true. Mickey noticed Ian stopped doing VIP shows and private dances in the back. That usually led to other sexual activities, both of which Ian probably participated in more than once when they were together. The thought made his stomach twist again. </p><p>"I guess that's something." </p><p>Ian nodded, but didn't smile. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."</p><p>Quit. Mickey wanted him to quit and find another job. One that didn't require old men grabbing at him and Ian slipping off the deep end again. But asking that wasn't fair, just like Ian asking him to quit his job wasn't fair...or was it? That was one of those trick questions where no one won. </p><p>"I already told you what I want." Mickey flicked the cigarette out into the street. "That means when I'm there and when I'm not."</p><p>They didn't need to point out that Ian could act however he wanted if Mickey wasn't there. They already knew it would be easy. Mickey hoped Ian would keep to his word, and he kind of felt like after this talk, if Ian did keep doing it, that it would start to eat at him. Or he could be wrong and he'd end up a sad loser with a cheating boyfriend. </p><p>"And you'll stop fighting?" Ian looked over, studying his side profile. </p><p>Mickey shrugged again. "If they give me a reason to fight, you know I will. So don't give them a reason." He stood, moving up the steps to the door. </p><p>Ian stood as well, moving up after him, but unsure how to approach him now. "Mick…"</p><p>"Just don't, okay? I'm not really in the mood." Mickey turned to meet his sad eyes. "We'll see how it goes."</p><p>"Yeah, okay." Ian shuffled on his feet, wanting to reach out but knew it would be unwelcome. "I love you."</p><p>With sad eyes of his own, the only reply he offered in return was what he could muster of a smile. It didn't reach his eyes, it didn't make either of them feel better, and it wasn't the same as saying the words back. </p><p>Mickey wasn't sure if you could actually love someone and not trust them. And it was for that reason that he didn't say it back because if his trust was broken again, that love would slip away before they had a chance to fix it.</p>
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